


Deliveries from a Mountain

by YoungSoon



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: ATEEZ Ghibli collab, Age Change for the Story, Alternate Universe - Ghibli, Alternate Universe - Kiki's Delivery Service, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Inspired by Kiki's Delivery Service, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, M/M, Studio Ghibli References, Wholesome, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungSoon/pseuds/YoungSoon
Summary: What would a new city bring for San? New experiences, new challenges, new struggles, new friends, and maybe, new corners of his heart opening which he didn't know to exist? All that and much is more revealed to him as he starts off a new chapter in his life- the life of a young witch.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jeong Yunho
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	Deliveries from a Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> **NOTE 1:** In the original "Kiki's Delivery Service" Kiki is 13 years old, for the sake of the story, San's age here is 18, so is Yunho's. Jongho and Wooyoung are in mid 20s.
> 
>  **NOTE 2:** The work is inspired by Studio Ghibli's "Kiki's Delivery Service", thus is not 100% accurate to the movie and has creative liberties made by me. 
> 
> **NOTE 3:** This is a part of ATEEZ Ghibli collab! Check other works following this [TWITTER LINK](https://twitter.com/hashtag/ATEEZxGhibli?src=hashtag_click)

A breeze blows through San’s hair ruffling the messy dark locks which reach his ears and gets caught in the deep blue cloak on his shoulders. A shiver rushes through him and he tightens his grasp on his birch tree broom, continuously gliding forward through the clear night sky. Each star can be clearly seen - not a single cloud in sight - and a large full moon illuminates his path to the unknown.

When he woke up this morning he didn’t have the slightest idea this would be the outcome of his day. As the roads snake between trees and across meadows below him, distant city lights become guides for him, he has a sense of excitement in his chest. He has made the right decision - the moment the hosts’ voice on the radio announced the weather forecast he knew what he had to do without a second thought.

_ “Tonight will be a clear night. No rain in sight in nearest prefectures and the wind unusually tame for mid-summer. This will be a gorgeous full moon!” _ the voice chirps from the red radio, and San’s eyes pop open. He jumps up from the grassy hillock where he was just napping in the afternoon sun like a lazy cat. He grabs the radio and sprints up the hillock, tripping a bit over his feet as he dashes down the road straight to the glass greenhouse next to his home.

“Grandma! Grandma!” he yells out as he stumbles through the door into the sun-filled glass structure. Plants of various kinds - those that only have leafs in all tones of green and those that bloom in all colors of the rainbow; those that fill the air with the sweetest scent, bees buzzing around them, to those that warn with their sour aroma. Trees reaching the ceiling and already bearing fruit, vines wrapping around them, and grabbing onto the steel beams of the greenhouse. 

An older lady stands next to a long wooden counter stacked with flasks, tubes, and glasses, various colorful liquids filling them up. Jars, boxes, candles, and a small oil burner all form and oddly chaotic order on the surface before the lady. Carefully, she picks out dried herbs from the stacks of labeled jars and as carefully she selects small crystals from boxes in front of her. A liquid or two is added to the bottle in her hand before she seals it with a cork. Only then does she turn to her breathless grandson.

“What is it, my dear?” she asks as she places the bottle in a bag next to her, eleven other bottles already in it. 

“It’s tonight. I have to go tonight,” San breathes out and properly steps into the greenhouse. “The weather forecast is perfect, so I can make it far enough,” he continues and closes up the leather bag filled with bottles. “It’s sudden, but it feels like the right time,” San hands the bag to a large crow resting on a garden chair nearby and with a loud yell the bird takes off, flying through an open glass panel in the ceiling.

“If you feel that this is the right time to go, then I am not the one to stop you,” his grandmother smiles gently. “Go pack,” she nods and San doesn’t have to be told twice as he rushes out of the greenhouse and straight to the white brick house with a tinted blue roof and deep purple door. 

“Byeol!” he opens the door of his room with a bang, startling the Siamese cat sleeping on his bed in the only spot hit by the early afternoon sun. “We are leaving tonight,” San elaborates on his excitement and pulls a not too large leather duffle bag from beneath his bed, throwing it on the covers without thinking much.

“That came out of nowhere,” the cat murmurs before yawning loudly and stretching her paws, her nails grabbing onto the covers for a second before she sits next to the bag, observing how San begins putting clothes and books into it. “Why the sudden rush?” 

“A clear full moon night,” San replies and stops before the overflowing bag. “Who knows when another will come. It would be disgraceful to wait any longer,” he rethinks the state of his bag and takes near everything out of it, folding the clothes before putting everything back in.

“Granny is well respected. No one would mind if you would stay here and learn from her instead of going who knows where,” Byeol notes and walks across the bed, her paws leaving barely any prints on the covers. 

“I have to go. All witches go to master their craft outside of the family home at the age of 18. I’m almost 19. I can’t stay any longer,” San says with a sigh before making his way to the bathroom and returning with his toiletries. “Besides, I want to see more. I want to know more. I want to do it my way,” he looks at the blue eyed-cat looking straight at him.

“I am not the one to stop you, even if you going means I’m going too,” Byeol is the one letting out a long sigh before kicking off the bed and jumping straight into San’s arms. “If I won’t go with you, you will get completely lost,” she purrs, snuggling closer to the young man who pets her in return.

“That is absolutely right,” he gives a big kiss to the cat’s forehead before placing her back on the bed and once more going through the contents of his bag. He isn’t returning any time soon after all.

As the sun sets and the moon begins to rise in the deep navy sky, the nearest neighbors have all gathered in front of the white brick house. Kids and adults, grey-haired uncles, and smiling aunties chatting in the pale yellow light of the lanterns set along the sides of a small gravel path from the wooden gates to the door of the house and the greenhouse.

“Do you know where you are going?” a rosy-cheeked girl with two pigtails asks as San ties the deep blue cloak of an apprentice witch around his shoulders with a bright red ribbon, filled with protective magic. 

“Not really. But I would like to go somewhere near the sea. I’ve never been to a place like that,” he nods to himself. “Where the winds will take me,” he smiles at the kid and there is a restless bubbling in his chest. He is both nervous and thrilled; scared and confident - all emotion he is feeling mixing into one large pot.

“Not the winds. Your heart, my dear,” his grandma’s voice makes San turn his head. She’s standing in front of the door of the greenhouse, grandpa locking it up behind her, broomstick in her hand. Slowly but with all the grace years can give she walks to her grandson standing at the gate. “Take this,” she hands him the broomstick. “It might not look like the fancy straw one, but trust me when I say this one will protect you the best.”

It seems incredibly light yet sturdy in San’s hands. The tail is not made from the yellow straw, as pointed out by his grandma, but a bush’s worth of thinner and thicker reddish-brown branches. The scent seems familiar to San but it takes him a second to pinpoint it.

“Isn’t this your birch broom?” he asks, eyes wide as he looks at the no less than a magical tool in his hands that doesn’t look more than a day old even if it has been decades.

“I am too old to fly,” San’s grandmother smiles. “It has gathered so much magic in it, it will serve you well,” she adds and there is yet another swelling emotion in San’s chest. Instead of letting it break through, he steps forward and embraces his grandmother as tightly as he can. 

“Thank you,” he whispers and pulls back, his grandpa getting a hug as well, even if he mumbles that he doesn’t need one. “I will do my very best to return as a skillful witch,” San promises.

“Call us or write to us once in a while, so we would know you are doing well,” grandpa murmurs and San nods, fully determined to do so. 

With last farewells, he hooks his bag on to the broom and hops on. Byeol takes her seat on the spot where the branch tail meats the stick and, just for safety measures, hooks her nails to the thick rope holding it together. “See you in a while!” San cheers as he kicks off the gravel pathway. The initial launch sways him a little, carrying him close to the nearby trees, but he regains his balance quickly, and with one last turn back, waving goodbye to his grandparents and neighbors, he flies off to the unknown.

San isn’t entirely sure for how long he has been flying, but already two towns are behind him, two shining oases of lights and bubbling life even at night appearing before him and then slowly fading as he leaves. The wind is pleasant, playing with the edges of his cloak and the ends of the red ribbon and the night is perfect, as promised. He can see other witches in the distance, their silhouettes illuminated either by the cities or the moon. Some fly the same direction as him for a while but then take a turn or dive down and at one point it’s only San.

“Aren’t you getting tired? It has been hours,” Byeol asks, her voice thick with sleep. But, then again, she could sleep for hours on end so she isn’t much of a comparison.

“A bit. But I want to get as far as possible,” San admits and continues pushing forward. His goal to reach at least another city is short-lived as deep, deep dark clouds standing out even on the background of the night sky catch him off guard. He must be out of his region as the forecast has changed so drastically. 

Barely visible lights guide him down to a train station. The rain is pouring heavily and the cloak doesn’t protect him from much, even with the hood up. It doesn’t serve as much of a shelter for Byeol either as she pulls it over her head and tries to hide from the storm. The wind becomes strong as well, pulling San from side to side as if he is a lost leaf, and the landing is almost too rough for anyone’s liking, but he manages to get them down in front of a cracked open cargo train container. 

With ease, while holding Byeol against himself and out from the rain, he slides the doors open enough to first let the cat in, then throw in his bag and broom and only then climb in himself and shuts it completely. There are stacks of boxes everywhere, with barely any room to stand or lay down, but as the rain hits the top of the container harder and harder they can’t complain. Being inside is way better than being outside. 

The cloak is hanged on the boxes and so is his shirt and pants - everything drenched to the bone. A small pocket light he wanted to install on the front of his broom comes in handy now to find a dry change of clothes and the packed away snacks. It’s a quiet meal of undetermined time and soon enough San has fallen asleep, his back resting against the boxes, while Byeol gently purrs in his lap. His sleep is so deep he doesn’t feel or hear how the train begins to move.

Only when the railroad goes over a loudly rumbling bridge does San wake up. The unexpected movement and noise attack his senses the second his conscious and it takes a few moments and a good rub of his eyes for him to understand what is going on. Carefully, he opens a bit of the sliding door and his eyes go wide, mouth falling open as through the steel beams of the bridge he can see an endless blue space, almost mixing with the blue of the sky. “The sea,” he murmurs and scatters back to his belongings.

In an unnecessary rush, he stuffs his somewhat dry clothes into his bag along with the pocket light. His fingers tremble a little as he ties the red ribbon of his cloak but it’s from pure excitement. The bag is strapped on to the broom, San gripping the broomstick tightly. Byeol has taken her place at the back and it is a staring contest with the door before San flings it open, the fresh air of the sea hitting him in the face, ruffling his hair.

“Let’s go!” he cheers and as soon as the beams of the bridge disappear he kicks off the container floor and up. The unknown winds sway him, almost crashing into a seagull. A moment passes until he can stabilize himself but as soon as he does he takes in everything around him. The train that took him here huffing and puffing away, the long bridge connecting the wood filled mainland to an island over a quiet bay. Boats small and big, with sails and with none sway in the blue water, gliding over the reflections of the white clouds as if they would be swimming through the sky. And right in front of him is a town, not the biggest ones he has ever seen but much larger than his home village. 

Buildings tall and small, with pointed towers and slanted slate roofs in all kinds of colors, are below him. Green gardens in between the houses, curved streets, and large trees. A sandy beach by the water and a lane of meadow next to it. It all is sitting on a group of smaller and bigger hillocks with a clock tower at the very top, looking over every bit of the town. With a small push, San heads straight to the tower slowly gliding higher and higher, more and more eyes on him as he flies over rooftops and past windows.

As expected he can see every corner of the city from the tower and taking it all in is almost overwhelming. “This could be my new home,” he whispers looking around at the vibrant rooftops nesting on various levels of the hillocks. “This where I could start becoming my true self,” he murmurs and doesn’t hear how a door in the clock quietly opens.

“Oho! Good morning!” a raspy voice greets him and San jumps a little, almost losing his balance. As he turns around a kind-looking man with grey hair and mustache as grey looks at him. “What an interesting visitor,” he mumbles looking directly at San.

“Ah! Good morning!” San finally snaps out of it and bows his head slightly. “If this is interesting…” he begins thinking of his options immediately, “could it be that no witch resides in this town?” he asks and now the man has to think for a bit.

“I’ve lived here my entire life and I have never heard of one. So, I will assume there is none,” he says and eyes San up and down once more, following the light movement of the broom with his eyes. “I’ve only heard stories as have many others,” he nods and San feels how a giant smile appears on his face.

“Thank you!” he bows once more and before the man manages to say anything else San has already taken off, the excitement too alive in his chest to stay calm. He swoops down more to the level of second-floor windows and slowly glides between the buildings. So many pairs of eyes look at him it is almost a bit unsettling, but such joy pours over him he can ignore the questioning looks. 

Loud crowds, roaring cars, buzzing streets, and blinding rays of the sun reflecting from the windows is a lot to take in. So much that a reflection from a side view mirror hits San’s eyes directly and he almost crashes into a telephone pole. “I think we should skip on flying around for now,” Byeol notes, holding onto the broom with all of her claws. San nods quietly and lands them on a sidewalk, more and more eyes turning to them. There are whispers all around them, a spurt of laughter coming from a group of boys on bikes, and there is a spark of spite lighting up in San. 

He straightens the bow of his cloak, swings the duffle bag over his shoulder while having his broom on his other hand. With a gracious jump, Byeol takes her spot on his other shoulder and he spares one glance to the cackling boys before turning in the opposite direction from them. What is their problem? They might have never seen a witch in real life but they have no base to laugh and whisper. Who gave them the right?

A stern pout and even more prominent frown forms on San’s face as he marches up the hill. He isn’t even sure where he is going, but his nose is following the fresh breeze coming from the sea, so he just goes along with it. It is quite a steep climb, the bag weighing him down a bit but he keeps pushing forward as stubborn as one could imagine. The puffing through his nose gets so prominent Byeol jumps off his shoulder and walks on her own, mostly because the young witch is annoyed more than he is tired.

“Hey!” a voice calls out and as there are people walking down the street, which is significantly easier, San ignores the call. “Mister witch!” the voice calls again and this time San stops. He turns his head just enough to see who is behind him and to his surprise, it’s one of the boys with a bike. The boy is intensely pedaling up the steep street, huffing, and puffing. His deep brown hair is starting to stick to his forehead, the striped long-sleeve shirt he is wearing probably a bad choice. 

San looks at him for a few seconds before turning away and continuing to walk up. “Wait!” the boy yells, the sound of pedaling and tires against the pavement gets only louder as does the breathing. “Wait!” he calls out again and almost unwillingly, being raised too polite, San slows down.

“Hello! I guess you are new here,” the boy breathes heavily, slowly pedaling next to San who continues to climb up. “We’ve never had a witch here. At least for the last 100 years for sure so it’s incredibly interesting to see one,” he continues even though he is breathless. “It was such a shock to see you flying around! I have always wondered how those brooms work,” the boy doesn’t stop talking even when San doesn’t reply, but the witch’s patience runs thin. 

“Excuse me, I have somewhere to be,” San bows his head towards the confused boy and marches faster, reaching the top of the street a lot faster than expected.

“Hold up!” the boy calls out and right as San looks back the boy loses his fight with his bike and falls to the side, knocking over a trash can. His buddies, who were a bit smarter and pushed their bikes up the hillock, burst out in loud laughter, and for a second San feels incredibly bad. Even the embarrassed smile on the boy’s face and his large hand waving at San doesn’t make it better and San scatters away as fast as he can.

“He was kind of cute,” Byeol states as she tiptoes next to San. “And also quite nice,” she adds and the serious pout and frown combination is back on San’s face. He just arrived here. He doesn’t need this at all. He needs a place where to stay and possibly a job as his savings won’t last forever. It has to be a job that allows him to study on the side too. He has no time to worry about cute boys.

San’s angry march ends at the top of one of the hillocks the town is located on. A brick wall reaching around the height of San’s waist stands on the edge of it, another layer of the town starting to form below it with twisted pavement streets weaving through buildings and gardens. There’s a small look-out point there, a bakery right next to it and the scent of fresh pastry swirls around mixing with the fresh air of the sea. 

San places his bag on the ground and puts the broom next to him as he rests his elbows on the wall and looks in front of him, Byeol sitting on the wall next to him. People go past him, curious eyes evaluating his cloak and broom, but he focuses on the incredible view. Yesterday morning he couldn’t even imagine he would end up here. It is almost a surreal moment - nothing but the breeze, the sun, and distant yelling of the seagulls. This truly could be San’s place.

“Hey! Hey! You forgot your pacifier!” suddenly, an incredibly loud voice calls out right next to San and he is startled for a second. A young man stands next to him. His dark hair pulled back from his face in a knot on top of his head, deep purple bandana covering his forehead. The sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up to his elbows, the brown apron having a gentle sprinkle of flour on it. “You forgot your kids’ pacifier!” he yells out again and now San notices a lady with a stroller disappearing behind one of the houses.

“Ah, damn it!” the man sighs and his eyes travel from the bakery door to the pathway looking down. “Damn it,” he hisses and is about to rush down but something in San makes him speak up.

“Excuse me,” he stops the man as he is about the run down the hill. “I can help, I think,” he suggests and the man stares at him a bit confused.

“Thanks, but no need to waste your time,” he smiles and is about to continue with his plan, his eyes still darting at the door of the bakery. San, however, is faster. He grabs his broom, Byeol knowingly jumping on his bag to guard it, and is on the edge of the wall in seconds. The baker looks at him wide-eyed but can’t say a word before San is already floating in front of him.

“I will be faster, trust me,” San smiles and as soon as the pacifier is in his hand, he speeds through the air and right around the corner where the woman went. A few sharp turns, his cloak brushing past trees, and he can see her. Gasps fill the air as he slowly lands in front of the stroller, the cloak giving it a quite theatrical ambiance.

“I believe this is yours!” he smiles as he hands the item to the lady. There is a bit of a shock in the air, both from her and the onlookers. Not really knowing what to say San bows and is about to leave, but the woman stops him. She rummages through her bag until she finds a notepad and a pen. Quickly, she writes something down, rips the page out, and hands it to San.

“Thank you and big thanks to the baker!” she smiles and San bows slightly again before getting back on his broom and kicking off the ground. There are quiet “oh” and “ah” from the people watching him and if a moment ago the reactions were mixed, now they felt good. He can’t expect people to instantly get used to a boy flying around the town if they haven’t had a witch around for 100 years. It takes time to get used to new things.

When he returns to the lookout point, Byeol is still sitting on his bag lazily washing her face with her paw, but the baker has returned to the shop. As the bag could be too much of a hassle, San walks to the door with only his broom and note in hand. ‘Mountaintop bakery’ reads on the sign of the small, cozy pastry shop, and the closer San gets, the more inviting is the scent. Carefully, he opens the door and as he does so he has to step to the side - a row of customers walking out with loaves and baguettes sticking out from their bags.

Ornate cupcakes and crafty pretzels, thick loaves and lengthy baguettes, jars of cookies and swirls of jam, cinnamon, and chocolate buns and so much more. Even as the customers leave with filled bags, the shelves seem endless with various types of pastry and bread, all exuding the most inviting scent of freshly baked goods. It’s warm and cozy and it feels only natural to take a deep, long breath of the scents swirling in the air.

“Oho! Witch kid! How did it go?” the baker cheers and steps from behind the counter. Another head peaks from the back door - a serious, handsome face with deep russet hair to his eyebrows and a white hat on top of it.

“I handed it back. The lady asked to give you this,” San says as he hands the paper over. The young man at the back returns to his tasks but whenever he passes the door he keeps looking at the front of the shop. It doesn’t seem or feel malicious - more so protective and curious.

A playful smile appears on the bakers’ face as he reads the note and he looks up at San. “Would you mind if I’d ask you to deliver one more thing?” he asks and for a second San is taken aback, but he nods. He needs to find a place where to stay but the small sparks of admiration from his onlooker were quite a lovely feeling and getting more of it after such a long journey would be lovely.

“Great!” the baker puts the note in the front pocket of his apron and hurries to the back, walking out after a minute with a large woven basket, covered with a checkered cloth. “Take this to the two-floor building with the deep blue roof near the railway. It has one tower at the front so you can’t miss it. And ask for a note that it got delivered,” the baker instructs and San nods once more. “No worries, you will get paid when you get back. How does a free lunch sound?” 

“It sounds nice,” San murmurs and then looks out at his bag and cat still outside. “My things…”

“You can carry them inside,” the baker encourages and as soon as San’s bag and Byeol are settled, a small bowl of fresh cream as a treat for her, he takes off to find the mentioned house. 

To find it easier he flies straight up, looking over the city to first find the railway and then he narrows his search down to the homes with deep blue rooftops. After a few swirls above the railway, he locates the right one and lands right in front of the gate. A large brick wall covered with vibrant green ivy plants protects the home and the garden around it. The roses sitting in neat flower beds on either side of the paved pathway are in full bloom - from blood red to soft pink and snow white. Further away large purple and blue bushes of hydrangeas remind more of clouds of color than flowers. Tall apple trees have birds chirping in them and even if the home is close to the railway and a busy street it seems completely separate from them. It kind of reminds San of home.

The light purple painted door seems larger and heavier than most doors, the faun-headed door knock made of heavy metal, but as San touches it, it feels unusually light. The sound is more clear and resonant than expected and San is so focused on the oddly musical ring in the air he jumps a little when the door opens.

“Yes?” a kind older lady asks in a gentle voice. Her russet hair is pulled back in a tight knot on top of her head, strands of gray running through them like silver veins in mountains. A white apron sits on her fuchsia-colored dress.

“Good day! I have a delivery from the Mountaintop bakery,” San bows and hands over the basket.

“They said it wouldn’t be here till very late evening, oh my,” she says as she lifts the cloth to see the content. It seems that only then does she notice the broom in San’s hand and the cloak on his shoulders. “Oh my! Dear boy, are you perhaps a witch?” she asks, her voice full of glee and her deep brown eyes now sparkling joyously.

“Yes. I arrived today to begin working on my path,” San nods and there is a certain pride in his voice as he says that. There should be - his family line full of respected and skillful craftsmen and women of many different paths. 

“How wonderful! The lady of the house would be so thrilled to meet you! She is, however, napping,” the older woman looks behind her almost regretfully. “Say, will you work at the baker’s now?” she asks and it is clear she is utterly excited about San just being here.

“I am not sure about that,” he has to admit as he scratches the back of his head. Things are moving all too suddenly which isn’t a bad thing but it is not clear if it is a good one either. “Oh, I need a note that the delivery was made!” San remembers and the lady nods.

“I will call the bakery. And I’m sure it will work out!” the lady smiles kindly. “I hope to see you more then,” she adds and San can do as much as bow shyly. “Have a safe flight,” she adds and as the heavy purple door closes, San kicks off from the pavement, glides out through the gate, and up to make his way back to the bakery.

Just a few minutes later a bike rolls in through the gate, its owner jumping off of it and pushing it down the rose-lined path to the back of the house. The bike rests against the wall next to the back door and the owner walks in straight to the kitchen, the basket of fresh baked goods on the kitchen table.

“Wow! I thought I would have to go pick it up later!” he stares at the various types of pastry and is about to reach one but his hand is shooed away.

“Wash your hands first! And why do you stink like a garbage bin? Either oil and soothe or now garbage,” the housekeeper in the fuchsia dress shakes her head as the boy laughs and washes his hands in the kitchen sink, white foam going up to the sleeves of his red and white striped shirt. 

“I had a bit of an accident, but the trash bin actually softened my fall,” he laughs loudly despite the shocked expression on the older woman’s face and takes a seat at the table. His large hand lands on a cinnamon roll, half of which disappears in his mouth instantly. “How did these get here?” he asks, cheeks full of the sweet treat.

“Seems like the bakery has a witch delivery service now,” the woman’s frown changes to a smile, and the boy’s eyes grow large instantly.

“What a coincidence,” he mumbles with a smile on his face, stuffing the rest of the sweet bread in his mouth. There was no way he would lose a witch in this small town, but things somehow are turning out even better than expected.

As promised, a lovely meal awaits San when he returns to the bakery. Byeol has settled in one of the front windows, napping in the rays of the late afternoon sun and catching the eyes of every small child walking past. San’s table is set near her - a selection of sweet pastries and a hearty slice of a vegetable pie along with bubbly lemon soda waiting. Everything smells incredible and the lonely sandwich he had on the train last night doesn’t compare to it all. 

He hasn’t even realized how hungry he is until the first piece of the pie gets into his mouth. His eyes grow big and his manners are the only thing keeping him from showing the still warm bake down his throat in unsettling speed. As he moves to the sweet treats he feels eyes on him and slows down, thinking he is being rude but the vibrant giggle right after proves he is not.

A new plate of treats lands in front of him and the baker sits down as well, the bakery quiet for a while now as the afternoon rush is over. “You have stellar reviews,” he says with a laugh. “Both had a bit of a fascinated tone to them, but it is not a bad thing,” he adds and takes a sip from his own glass of lemonade. “We generally don’t do deliveries much as there are only two of us and someone needs to watch the ovens and someone else needs to be at the front,” he continues. “But I have a feeling people living further away would really love it.” 

A bit of silence settles in the shop apart from the rustling in the kitchen and Byeol’s quiet huffing. The baker looks at the sea outside the window for a second and then turns to San, who currently has half an eclair in his mouth, chocolate all over his mouth. “Would you like to work for us as a delivery man?” the baker asks and San has to blink a few times to process the question which amuses the baker as he barely holds back his laugh.

“Just like that?” San asks, looking directly at the man before him and receives a nod. “I… I am not sure. I just arrived and I need a place to stay first…” San mumbles, wiping his mouth with a napkin, but the baker has an instant answer to that too.

“We have a spare room in the attic above our storage,” he informs. “We can also offer one meal a day and any dud pastries. If we will have any more of them ourselves my husband will start rolling around instead of walking,” he laughs.

“When will you stop exaggerating?” the same handsome face as before peaks from the door frame before a sturdy, broad-shouldered young man stands on the doorstep. His brown apron is covered in flour, some of it on the sleeves of his short-sleeved grey shirt, and settled on his sun-kissed skin. “We do have a handful of non-sellable ones every day tho,” he smiles a quite warm smile, crossing his large arms on his chest and leaning against the wall with his shoulder.

“What do you say?” the baker asks smiling at San even though he just had the biggest pout on his lips while looking at the man at the back.

“It sounds… great,” San admits. “I’d love to take on this offer!” he says loudly and stands up, bowing deeply. “Thank you so much!” he almost yells and both men can’t help but to laugh out loud.

“Sit down, sit down,” the one at the table encourages and San does so his cheeks probably bright red. “My name is Wooyoung, by the way. And that scary one at the back is my husband Jongho,” he nods towards the absolutely not scary looking man who just shakes his head.

“I’m San. Choi San,” San bows again and as he straightens his back Byeol jumps in his lap, awake from her nap. “And this is Byeol,” he adds quickly.

“How nice, a mountain working in a mountain top bakery,” Wooyoung smiles brightly and stands up. Out of instinct, San does the same, holding Byeol tightly so she wouldn’t fall. “Let’s go check your room,” the baker suggests and San barely manages to grab his bag and broom, Byeol landing on the floor graciously, and follows Wooyoung to the kitchen and out through the back door.

A small inner yard is before him - an older car blocking the driveway, a lonely ivy plant sneaking up the side of a sturdy wooden building with two floors, a red tile roof, matching red brick chimney, and one window standing out from the wall. A set of stairs right above a double door of the first floor leads up to the second floor and Wooyoung walks to it with no hesitation. “The bathroom you can use is right there,” he points to another attachment to the house as they walk up the stairs. “We live above the bakery and if anything this is our window,” he now points to the second floor of the bakery. 

The door creaks loudly as Wooyoung pushes it open, a small cloud of dust and flour rising in the air. The room is quite barren - an empty bookshelf right across from the door in the very corner, a dusty round table squished against the wall between the shelf and a single door wardrobe. Two chairs rest against the edge of the table, the seemingly red upholstery covered in white. A stone fireplace with a single circle stovetop attached to it has settled against the wall on the left from the door, empty shelf with 5 hooks underneath it waiting to be filled, a cabinet with two doors and no less than two shelves right above it. A bed stands on a small rise in the floor right next to the double-sided six square window. It has only a dusty mattress on top of it for now. Even though dark and dusty, something about the room feels nice.

“It’s a bit dirty, but look around. I’ll get you some blankets and pillows. Probably a cloth and a bucket too,” Wooyoung gently pats San’s shoulder before making his way down the stairs. San places his bag down, broom still in hand, and follows Byeol into the room, her paws leaving imprints on the flour-covered floor.

“Hopefully the flour won’t settle in our lungs over time. Who knows what effect it could have. You should ask when they last cleaned here so we would have an estimate… Are you listening?” she turns around and looks at San who has stopped at the window. The broom rests against the wall as he pushes the window open, a swirl of fresh air rustling the settled dust.

“You can see the sea from here,” San smiles as he looks at the seemingly endless field of blue in the distance. “Could this really be a place for me, if everything goes this smoothly?” he asks quite rhetorically but Byeol answers the question anyway, jumping on the windowsill.

“As long as you think and believe, that this is the place for you it will be. The moment the feeling fades it no longer can serve you,” she responds quite profoundly.

“You’re right,” San nods and pets her head gently.

“I’m always right,” Byeol purrs lightly as they both look at the sea, waiting for Wooyoung’s return.

The closing of the bakery is understandably a far more important task, so the cleaning of the room is left for San to do alone. For the time being his bag sits on the staircase, his cloak neatly tucked between the handles to not fall victim to the wind. It’s a process that takes time, to the point the sun already sinks into the sea slowly, when San’s possessions can be moved inside. Being a witch comes in handy, as the most important cleaning tool is already in his hands. For a minute San takes a hold of the broom, standing in the middle of the room and takes a few deep breaths. As clearly as he can he envision happiness, he envisions safety and prosperity, happiness and calm before sweeping every corner of the room - from the dust bunnies in the bottom corners, to spider webs against the ceiling beams, even reaching into the shelves and under the bed.

With as many good intentions in mind and as many positive affirmations, each corner of the room gets a scrub - from windows to the bed frame, from chair seats to stovetop. Just a few drops of a protective elixir from a bottle in San’s bag sends a lovely smell of citrus in the air and strangely, but at the same time not strangely at all it instantly feels more like home - his grandmother’s magic sneaking its way into the wooden boards. Only the poor mattress doesn’t get a gentle first meeting and rather a beating in the yard to get all of the dust out of it before returning it to its place and getting the provided bedding over it.

San’s books land on the shelve, his clothes in the wardrobe, and the cloak on a hook installed on the outside of its door. The round table moves to the center of the room, the deep red chairs bringing some color to the otherwise quite dull room. “I have quite a few things missing,” San frowns as he looks at the empty cabinets and the lackluster shelves. “We will have to go shopping tomorrow, Byeol,” he looks at the feline who has taken a liking to the bed already.

“Absolutely. I can’t live just on fresh cream. I have to watch my figure,” she purrs and it almost sounds like a laugh at her own joke.

“You’re right,” San nods with a smile and takes one more deep breath of the breeze coming from the sea before closing the window for the night and heading to bed. These might have been the most eventful 48 hours of his life so far, but he had a good feeling about this new journey.

Oversleeping is not a quality one should be proud of, so when San wakes up around noon he scrambles out of the bed as fast as he can. There is a bit of a panic, as this would also be his first day of official work. He grabs a towel resting on the end of his bed and is about to rush down to the bathroom but he almost trips over a basket of a bit oddly shaped breads and pastries. 

“Good morning!” Jongho’s voice greets him from the yard as he walks to the house with a large flour bag on his shoulder. “Slept well?”

“Good morning! Too well, I think,” San mumbles and picks up the basket. “I will be ready for work as fast as possible!” he reassures but Jongho just shakes his head.

“No worries. There are no deliveries yet, but Wooyoung is advertising you like crazy to all customers so either later in the afternoon or tomorrow the first one should come in,” Jongho speaks as if he would have nothing on his shoulders, the weight of the bag non-existent for him.

“Then maybe I could quickly go shopping before lunch?” San asks, his attention is drawn to Byeol brushing past his leg and sitting down on the stairs in front of him.

“Sure. Take your time,” Jongho nods with a smile and walks into the house. As he steps into the kitchen San exhales and slows his frantic pace down. He brings the pastries in, placing them on the table and proceeds to calmly walk to the bathroom. When he returns, he sits down on his bed and takes out one of the last items out from his bag - a small, tightly tied satchel. As he unties it, coins roll out on the covers and soon colorful bills join them.

“We need dishes and some stock of our own food. Probably some towels, pots, and pans. A kettle,” San lists as he places the bills in a pile. “I need a map of the town and the closest region. A notebook…” he looks at the bills in his hands before placing one more down, “two notebooks. A plant or two, or this doesn’t feel right. A gas or oil lamp because there are no wires here,” he continues and the pile in his hand grows smaller. “Cat food,” San mumbles and places a few more bills down.

“Do you need something more for yourself? Something that is not a necessity?” Byeol asks, looking at the colorful papers. “This is all for this room and not really for you.”

“I’m fine for now,” San shakes his head. “When I will earn something from the deliveries I can look into books and jars, herbs and candles,” he exhales slowly and places the few spare banknotes on top of the pile and places them back in his improvised wallet. The coins he swoops under his pillow, for now, mentally noting down a piggy bank.

The cloak soon settles on his shoulders, red ribbon tied a bow neatly and San is standing at the door. For a moment he looks at the broom resting next to the window, but decides against it as it would be too much of a hassle. He opts for walking and after telling Jongho in the kitchen that he is going, he begins exploring the city.

The spare money he took comes in handy, as some things are much more expensive than expected, for example, pans and pots. But the mental shopping list checks off in around three shops, three large shopping bags now in San’s hands. Not taking the broom is both a good and bad decision as it would help to move the bags, but it would not have been comfortable to carry around while in shops. With a deep sigh he makes his way forward, the realization that he will have to climb the steep street again slowly dawning upon him.

“Oh! Mister witch! Hello!” a voice San vaguely recognizes calls out and he stops. In a second or two a bike stops next to him, the same boy as yesterday on it. This time his shirt is just white, light jeans rolled up to his knees. “Need some help?” he asks, his eyes sparkling under the wavy brown hair falling over his forehead. San hesitates, not wanting to answer mostly because he realizes he was a bit rude yesterday, but as he looks at the climb in front of him he sighs and nods.

“I’d appreciate it,” San murmurs and the boy instantly jumps off his bike. He takes one of the bags from San and straps it to the carrier part at the back. He is both gentle with the content inside but thorough with securing it in place. It is an almost adorable concentration on his face as he does so.

“We can hang one on the handlebars,” he says and once more takes the heavier looking bag from San, securing it to the front of the bike so it wouldn't get in the way of the wheel. “Can you handle that one?” the boy asks and San nods.

“Thanks,” he mumbles and there is an almost too pleased of a smile on the taller, actually good head taller, boys lips. They both slowly start the climb up, the boy pushing his bike instead of riding it, and for a second it is awkward as none of them speak.

“My name is Yunho, by the way,” the taller of the two introduces himself around halfway up the hillock. “And I guess I have to apologize. I was a tad bit too aggressive yesterday,” he does sound regretful and San feels even worse.

“I’m San,” he begins, “and I think I should be sorry too. I was quite rude,” he admits and for his surprise there is a small laugh coming from Yunho.

“If we’re both sorry, I guess it’s fine now,” he smiles too brightly at San and the witch can just nod. He is so glad Byeol stayed at the bakery or else he would never hear the end of this. Her teasing could be quite brutal at times and that is one thing San doesn’t need.

The rest of the climb is quiet, the heavy bags making walking even more straining than yesterday, and it feels like they take their first real breath only at the top of the street. “I think I can handle them from here,” San bows his head in gratitude as they stop by the pathway into the yard, still blocked by the same car.

“You live in the bakery? That’s so neat!” Yunho looks at the attachment to the main house and nods slowly. He seems distracted by a zooming by plane for a second and snaps out only as San is about to take his bags off the bike. “And don’t be silly. I’ll help carry them inside too. Or at least to the door,” Yunho is a bit faster in taking the two bags and San is not about to physically wrestle this giant so he just sighs and leads the way.

There is a quiet “wow” behind him as they walk into the yard. For San it already doesn’t seem that fascinating, but when he first walked he found it as interesting - how a bakery has such a small, lovely hidden world behind it. “You will insist on still carrying them?” San looks over his shoulder at Yunho who seems to be eyeing the car.

“Yup,” he nods, turning to San with a soft smile, his cheeks rounding up like fresh bread buns.

“Fine,” San sighs again and walks up the stairs, Yunho’s footsteps right behind him. What he has forgotten for a second is Byeol sleeping on the windowsill of the open window. She is now fully awake, her blue eyes following both of them.

“What a turn of events,” she meows. For Yunho, it is just that - a meowing of a cat - while San understands every word. “I don’t mind at all, but I hope you had the witts to apologize,” she continues and stretches out before sitting on the windowsill. “He is very cute,” Byeol adds and San shoots a quick glare at her, earning a small laugh from the cat.

“Thank you for your help,” San bows his head as they reach the top of the stairs. “I can take it from here,” he adds and the kind smile on Yunho’s face makes his cheeks heat up a little.

“No problem!” Yunho responds quite cheerfully. “I hope I will see you around more. Maybe without grocery bags, you know,” he smiles and his cheeks seem to carry a pink tint too. 

“Maybe. I am planning to be quite busy though,” San has to admit. Becoming a full-pledged witch isn’t an easy process and with the delivery job on hand he won’t have a lot of free time. None at all, perhaps.

“Right. The studies and practices. My grandma knows a lot about it, so I have a bit of knowledge myself,” Yunho nods with a thoughtful pout on his lips. “Just don’t overdo it. If you burn out, you can’t be a witch,” he adds and Byeol purrs in agreement.

“He is very right,” she slowly nods her head but San just quickly glances at her before returning his gaze to Yunho, who continues to speak.

“I have something I am very interested in too and I have to be careful not to get too involved. We all have something like that,” he nods to himself. “So.. I will remain hopeful to see you around more.”

“Maybe,” San smiles and there is a bit of an awkward silence as they both stand on the stairs for a moment. After like a minute they say proper goodbye and Yunho speeds down the stairs two steps at a time and around the corner, the pink on his cheeks more prominent than before and San knows his are as red if not redder.

“Such a lovely boy,” Byeol now sits on the round table as San finally walks in with all of his groceries. “Very sensible,” she adds and follows San with her eyes. The witch says nothing in return and chooses to quietly unload the new items.

A blooming lavender pot takes its place on the windowsill, leaving enough space for Byeol, while a pot of full red begonias sits in the middle of the table, bringing more color to the room. Pots and pans hang from the hooks in the kitchen area, few mugs settle on the shelf along with bowls and plates. Small stack of towels finds a spot in the wardrobe, a few cans and jars of goods forming neat rows in the cupboards. A petrol lamp is placed near the begonia along with a brown tea-candle that San lits as soon as it is on the table.

“Already feels more like home,” he lets out a long breath before continuing. A map, a pen and a smaller notebook is placed on the edge of the table - ready to be grabbed when San heads out. A larger one joins the books in the shelf, but not for long as soon enough San has taken it along with one his selected books and opened both for his first study session. The oddly shaped breads form his late breakfast, the scent of caramel flowing around the room from the small candle.

“Will you promise me that you won’t overdo it?” Byeol suddenly asks, her paw landing on the page San is reading grabbing his attention. “The boy was absolutely right, you know,” she adds in a very serious tone but it doesn’t seem to affect San as he gently pets her head and moves her paw away.

“I have barely started,” he continues to pet the cat, her resonant purring filling the room. “I have a lot to catch up to and a lot to achieve,” at these words Byeol moves her head away obviously not liking what she hears. “But I will look after myself. I promise. Besides, I have you too,” San tries to pet her again but she stands up and graciously jumps from the table to the bed.

“You better listen to me then. And that boy too," she glares at him before laying down on the covers, forming the most perfect circle, and slowly dozing off, her blue eyes fixated on San.

“As if you give me any other chance,” San laughs and returns to his book. At the back of his mind he briefly goes through yet another day he is away from home but he can come to only one decision - he is starting to feel more like an individual, more like himself than just a part of a family, part of a practice. Even after just one day. There is a new, small fire of excitement in his chest as more days will bring more change and he can’t wait to experience it.

  
  


As Jongho predicted, Wooyoung’s advertising has worked wonders and orders for delivery start to come first thing in the morning. As a professional business owner, Wooyoung takes it upon himself to set work hours for San - no deliveries being accepted before the bakery opens at 9am and none after 5pm, taking in account how it will get dark around that time in winter. A whole chalkboard appears on the doorpost of the kitchen, installed by Jongho, where all orders and time are written down and it is a system San didn’t expect, but definitely appreciates.

On his first real delivery day his route takes him all across the island. He stops by the grey-haired uncle who maintains the clock tower and a large mansion with a stiffly dressed butler opening the door. San flies across the woods to a house or rather a villa near the other end of the island, large but entirely calm dog laying at its door and then on his way back he has to land in the middle of a small clearing.

Small wooden cottage sits between the trees, hundreds of crows nesting in the branches and on the rooftop, their shiny feathers reflecting sunlight quite marvelously. There San is greeted by a young man a bit shorter than him, hair so blue one could think it’s freshly dipped in dye. With time San finds out he is an illustrator, working on fairytale books and nature encyclopedias, thus living where he can find the most inspiration, and in a very odd way, San can understand him. Nothing can happen without inspiration.  


When the deliveries end and San has helped in the bakery as much as Wooyoung and Jongho allows, he takes to his books. Each evening turning into a reading session for hours but it becomes such a pleasant and familiar rhythm San quite enjoys it. Even if Byeol hisses at him for being too set in one way mere days into a ‘new life’. The rhythm does get disturbed in a more or less pleasing way.

One of the delivery destinations San recognizes immediately is the house with the blue roof near the railroad. It’s his final delivery for the day and he is quite glad to see the excited lady who opened the door the previous time, as there is something so pure about her joy seeing a witch. To his surprise it is not the lady that opens the door, but Yunho.

“San!” he cheers loudly and the cutest smile blooms on his face. “So glad to see you!” he speaks so loudly San instinctively looks around as if someone would be hiding between rose bushes hearing Yunho’s excited voice. It is a bit embarrassing.

“Who is it, Yunho?” a voice of an elderly woman asks from inside the house and Yunho turns his head to respond.

“Delivery from the bakery!” he shouts and it’s hard to tell if it is because his voice is naturally loud or is it because the woman might not hear well.

“Is it the witch boy?” the voice asks with a ring of excitement in it.

“Yes! It’s San,” Yunho replies as loudly as he did before and for a second there is silence.

“Would he like to join us for tea?” the voice asks and Yunho turns to San with his signature smile.

“Would you? My grandma would be very happy to see you,” it’s a statement San doesn’t have the heart to refuse. He still hasn’t called or written to his grandparents, so he could at least bring joy to another grandmother’s face, gaining a reminder for himself.

As San nods, Yunho opens the door wider and welcomes him in. He encourages San to take the broom with him and leads him down a short hallway with dark wooden stairs leading to the second floor. They do not take them and instead turn to the right to a large room filled with as much daylight as imaginable. A large window takes up space from the floor nearly to the ceilings opening to the inner garden, a glass door next to it leading out. There are photo frames of planes and memories from travels, ships and parties arranged on the walls, travel souvenirs standing on shelves like soldiers in attendance. A tall palm tree grows in an orange terracotta pot near the window, an airplane plant sitting on a shelf higher up, a blooming row of five amaryllis flowers having a shelf of their own.

In the middle of all that stands a wooden coffee table, fresh-cut roses in a vase in the middle of it. Two medium-sized sofas on either side of it, facing a TV installed into a niche in the wall. On a chair matching the sofas sits an older woman, her hair tied in a knot and white as snow. The light blue dress she is wearing makes her look younger and as soon as she sees San, the smile on her face - so similar to Yunho’s - takes even more years of her features.

“Good afternoon,” San politely bows his head, holding onto his broomstick with both of his hands. Yunho has taken the basket from him and disappeared somewhere in the house as soon as San stepped into the seemingly living room.

“Good afternoon to you too,” the woman smiles sweetly. “Don’t worry. Please, sit down,” she motions her hand - beautifully sparkling rings on her fingers - to a sofa near her. With a nod San quickly makes his way to the offered seat and sits on the sofa. There is nothing for him to be scared of, this room reminding him so much of his home and the aura coming from the woman calming and pleasant, but can’t help feeling a bit awkward. Yunho’s grandmother does notice it and starts a conversation immediately.

“What is your name?” she asks softly, her eyes deep brown and kind. The more San looks at her the more he can see similarities between her and Yunho, which is quite endearing.

“San,” he responds politely and the gentle smile on the woman’s face is very calming.

“That is a wonderful name,” she nods. “Is this your first year away from home?” she asks and this time San is the one who nods. “This is a wonderful city to start in. I had a friend who started here too,” she continues.

“I heard there haven’t been witches here for a century,” San points out and the woman shakes her head.

“She didn’t stay here longer than six months. After that she headed to the mainland to continue her studies so most people here didn’t even notice her presence. She flew rarely, but she had the same kind of birch broom as you,” Yunho’s grandmother talks in a calm, warm voice and her short story is entirely captivating for San.

“Tea time!” Yunho appears in the door with a large tray in his hands, for a second disrupting the calm atmosphere. He places the tray on the table - the pastries from the bakery on a plate, a flowery teapot with matching cups on it as well. For a minute all three of them pick a pastry and take a cup and then, as the rustling stopped, the calmness makes its way back.

“Do you travel a lot?” San asks and it seems to be a true trigger question as from then on she continues with countless stories of her many visits to cities all around the world by means of air, land and sea. The interesting people she has met, witches being a theme in her stories. It feels like she has waited for a moment like this for a while. The stories stop only when it has already gotten quite dark outside and the woman San first met returns.

Even though happy about San’s visit, the woman in the fuchsia dress scolds all three of them, as it is late and over Yunho’s grandmother’s rest time. “Do visit some other time,” the older woman says before Yunho walks San out and he nods, as this visit truly felt like home. Even the attic room he doesn’t feel as homely as the room filled with endless stories.

“I’ve heard them so many times, but I always love listening to them,” Yunho admits at the gate where they both have stopped. “Do you always end around 5pm?” he asks out of the blue.

“Uhmmm. Yes, I guess. I no longer take orders after five,” San responds and even in the twilight of the late evening Yunho’s smile is very visible.

“Would you like to meet up? I think I have something very cool to show you,” the excitement in his voice is contagious. Whatever that something is, it must be very special.

For a second San thinks about another evening of studies being lost if he agrees, but saying no would feel as bad. Two evenings couldn’t harm him, right? Besides, he is studying diligently and making quite a lot of progress. “Sure. I think I can spare a moment,” San nods and he can swear there is a relieved exhale from Yunho.

“Awesome! I will pick you up from the bakery!” Yunho announces and even if objecting could be an option, San still doesn’t know too many places around the town to meet anywhere else.

Just like a few days ago on the stairs leading to San’s room they remain awkwardly standing in the gates for a while. Only when it gets a bit too unbearable do they wish each other a good evening and San takes off on his broom, Yunho peering up after the witch until he can’t see him anymore. There’s pleasant bubbling in his chest and he feels as if he truly starts to understand his grandmother’s fascination with witches.

As promised, Yunho waits for San at the bakery right at 5pm. His bike is parked outside and he is sitting in the cozy shop, looking out the window at the view in the distance. San sees him from the back as he returns from his final delivery of the day. He scrabbles a little, almost dropping the money he has received on the floor rather than in WooYoung’s hands.

“That is so cute,” Wooyoung coos him and takes a large step to stand next to Jongho, who, even though amused by San suddenly turning into a clutz, continues to roll the final breadsticks of the day. “Were you like this about me too?” he looks at his husband with the biggest doe eyes he can.

“No. But your brother has told me plenty of stories you were like that for me,” Jongho replies with a smug smile and Wooyoung’s face forms an angry pout instantly, which only makes Jongho laugh. “That’s why I fell for you even more though,” he adds and presses a quick kiss on Wooyoung’s cheek, which instantly changes color to deep pink.

“Listen here…” Wooyoung sounds almost annoyed, but in a good way, as he shoves Jongho with his shoulder, the latter not budging at the weak attack. Only as he is about to launch another attack on Jongho he notices that San is still in the kitchen, his attention switching between the two bakers and Yunho at the front.

“Go get ready! What are you waiting for!” Wooyoung exclaims almost too loudly, Yunho’s head-turning a bit to see where the voice is coming from and the very second San is out to the back, dashing up the stairs. It has to be the quickest change of clothes he has ever managed, the cloak back on his shoulders regardless as an apprentice witch he has to wear it whenever he is in public.

Within minutes San is back in the kitchen, but not Jongho nor Wooyoung is there, only a distant laugh giving a hint on where they could be for a moment. He takes a deep breath and walks into the bakery, Yunho’s head almost immediately turning to him, with that bright signature smile.

“Are you ready?” he asks and stands up, his stature once more towering over San. It is very easy to forget how tall he is as he presents quite small.

“Yes. I need to grab my broom, I guess,” San thinks out loud and would turn around to sprint back to his room, but Yunho shakes his head.

“It’s okay! We can both take my bike,” Yunho offers and San doesn’t really have a solid objection. With a nod they both leave the bakery, two voices now back in the kitchen.

The sun is slowly nearing the horizon, a pleasant breeze from the sea making it a lovely late afternoon - perfect for a bike ride. Riding a bike is a bit of a different experience than flying with a broom. First of all, still being on the ground feels a lot different, even if the air hits San’s face in a similar fashion. Secondly, sitting on metal compared to wood feels a bit distant from what San is used to and the wheels touching the ground helps with the feeling of losing a grounding point. And lastly, holding onto someone instead of the broom is odd, but not unpleasant. San’s hands are securely holding onto Yunho’s sides as they speed alongside the green meadow, parallel the sandy beach and so near the sea. All this time here and San still hasn’t had a chance to get closer to the sea.

“It’s so beautiful here,” he thinks out loud and Yunho hums loudly in agreement. They pass buildings on one side and the busy port on the other, pulling onto a street or more like a runway with hangars on both sides of it. Yunho stops in front of one of them and waits for San to get off the bike before he does it himself.

“Ta-dah!” Yunho exclaims as he pushes the hangar door open. Inside stands a rather small looking, bright yellow plane. It is not much different from the ones that fly over the town once in a while, but something is telling San it is different indeed.

“We built it from scratch - a disregarded engine and a pair of broken-off wings as a start,” Yunho begins as he leads the way deeper into the steel building. “My grandma told me and my friends so many travel stories and how it felt to fly we just had to,” he continues and runs his hand along the side of the metal bird as he walks forward. “And my buddy's uncle has a rent deal for this place, so we just started without thinking much about it,” he stops at the tail end and turns to San. “What do you think?”

“Can it fly?” he asks, looking at the patches of various scrap metal skillfully hidden by the yellow paint.

“That we still need to find out. But in theory it should be able to,” Yunho looks at the airplane. “We are still checking the last details and looking for a day with favorable weather forecast to try it.”

“How? Are you just going to try and fly?” San is quite confused as he doesn’t have full trust in regular planes flying around, let alone one built by teenagers his age. He understands the magic behind his broom but not the mechanics keeping a plane in the air.

“Yep. I will take it for a spin myself,” the taller of two nods quite proudly but San has to frown, looking at the yellow metal bird, which looks more and more misshapen by the minute.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” he turns to Yunho, whose excited expression has dropped a little.

“It is. But there isn’t any other way to test it. Isn’t it similar when flying a broom? You just have to believe and try,” he points out but San shakes his head.

“When learning to fly with a broom you start low. If you fall you can bruise your hands or knees, maybe sprain an ankle if you are too high, but not much more. It doesn’t have an engine or petrol. And as a magical tool it is tuned to protect the one on top of it,” San explains and there is a layer of doubt in Yunho’s features. “It’s different,” he adds.

“Well… We don’t really have any other way to check if it works,” Yunho sighs but his smile returns right after. “I have trust in our skills,” he adds and San decides not to argue with him anymore. But at the back of his head sits the thought of rain magic and bad weather spells, so the plane wouldn’t have a chance to take off until winter. He doesn’t trust the yellow metal bird one bit.

Yunho continues his tour around the hangar, showing off other projects they are working on, many of them a lot safer than a plane, but nothing seems as exciting for him as the yellow metal beast. His tour ends at the back door of the hangar, leading straight to a small grassy patch right next to a steep dune. That’s their stopping point - sitting down in the grass and looking at the smooth movement of ships and boats in the distance, the sun slowly sinking into the sea.

“Do you like living here?” Yunho asks after they have been sitting in silence for a moment.

“I do. I didn’t expect for everything to fall into place so smoothly and I have a hunch my granny has had something to do with it, but I can’t complain,” San smiles and rests his arms on his knees, head on top of them and looks in the distance. “I feel like this could be my place - where I can become my true self.”

“I think you are your real self already,” Yunho objects, his long legs stretched out in the grass, hands resting on the ground by his sides. “We all are, you know, deep inside of us. I think that different places, different experiences, different people unlock different aspects of that,” he continues and San has to look at him a bit surprised. 

“What makes you think that?” San asks and Yunho takes a moment to think.

“Well, my grandma has traveled all across the world and met so many people, each journey unlocking new doors, but for her the master key must have been this town as she always returned. Or for her witch friend - she might have gained a key here and then went back home too,” he speaks a bit slower, with a bit more thought than before. 

“And what about you then?” the witch asks and Yunho inhales and exhales deeply before looking right at San.

“For me it could be someone instead of something or someplace,” he says, full of undisclosed determination and San feels an odd, sudden heat in his cheeks, turning away towards the sea.

“Yeah. I think it might be a combination of a place and someone for me too,” San murmurs and by Yunho’s quiet giggle it is clear he heard it. None of them elaborate any further and for a bit longer enjoy the sun slowly setting before a quiet, yet not awkward at all bike ride back to the bakery. It hasn’t occurred to San that not only a place could help him be the witch he wants to be, but maybe a certain someone too.

  
  


For the next couple of weeks a new kind of rhythm falls into place and it brings San even more joy than the previous one. He keeps delivering bakery goods around the town, once in a while to the far end of the island or the mainland. On his free evenings he studies, the small amount of money he earns allows him to buy not only cat food for Byeol but also a few new books on herbs and water magic.

Whenever his deliveries are meant for the house next to the railroad with the blue roof, he is greeted either by the housekeeper’s or Yunho’s smiling faces, treated with tea and marvelous stories from Yunho’s grandmother’s youth. Usually on the next day after such meetings he would head to the hangar with Yunho, meeting his friends, and getting more and more accustomed to the town and the people around him. As he slowly got used to them they got used to him.

The rhythm takes over San’s life and it completely leaves his mind that the yellow metal bird he sees so often will have to take flight. The shock he feels rushing through him as his little red radio announces the event of 'local teens showing off their work' can’t be measured and the break he is having between orders turns into a staring contest with the small device.

“The weather is nice and clear. It will be fine,” Byeol tries to calm him down, staring at the radio as intently. “They must have thought about safety too,” she adds and even though San would love to agree he feels restless. By pure luck he has no orders at this moment or maybe he would have been a lot calmer if he didn’t know. 

“We met yesterday but he didn’t tell me,” San mumbles, eyes fixated on the receiver that keeps announcing the preparation for liftoff. 

“Probably because of how worried you were,” Byeol points out and San nods slowly. That probably is the reason, but he would have liked to at least prepare a protection spell, or send positive reinforcement out beforehand, not just now.

_ ‘And we have a liftoff! What a marvelous sight proving passion for science and the advancement of technology once more!’  _ the announcer cheers loudly, the crowd near him doing the same. Just the faint sound of the engine can be heard with the crown continuously shouting support and praises, but a sudden and loud pop sends a wave of gasps out.

_ ‘Was it the engine? Is he coming down?’ _ the anchor asks someone to the side. ‘ _ Do we evacuate the crowd? Is he falling or will he land?’ _ he continues, the microphone catching every word even if he is talking away from it. The people gathered there have switched from encouragement to fear and the second someone yells ‘there’s fire’, San is up on his feet. He grabs his broom and doesn’t even bother with the door, jumping straight out the window knocking the lavender plant over. He kicks off the edge of the roof and heads straight to the sea where the runway is.

Already from afar he can see the wildly trashing airplane above his destination - going up and down, circlingaround the runway. Sounds of sirens pierce his ears as firetrucks rush towards the same direction. People flow away from the area in large crowds, many of them distressed and screaming while the yellow metal trap throws desperate loops in the air. 

As quickly as possible, San makes his way towards it, the gasps bellow him and someone calling out his name going past his ears. The closer he gets to the trashing aircraft the thicker and hotter the usually fresh air gets, smoke forming their own clouds and the smell of burning gas seeping into everything around. There, between the dark grey smoke and the small flames breaking out from the engine compartment, barely protected by a windshield, Yunho is trying to keep the beast in the air.

“Yunho!” San yells, getting as close to the plane as possible. “You need to get out of this thing!” he looks at the taller and taller flames starting to eat away the paint of the metal, sneaking between the rotating propellers. “Fast!” he emphasizes and as a new puff of smoke emerges he has to fly back a bit, but he returns closer as soon as he can.

“Are the firefighters here?” Yunho shouts in return. His whole focus, eveing with goggles and helmet covering most of his head and face, is on keeping the hazardous plane in the air with all his might, the smoking engine keeping him from seeing what is going on on the ground.

“They are here,” San informs after quickly glancing down. “And the crowd is gone,” he adds. Another loud pop comes from the engine and San's heart palpitates in his chest so fast it could compete with a hummingbird. 

“Alright! I will need some help, tho,” Yunho tries to joke but as the plane drastically loses its height for a second all jokes are gone and he has to put all his strength into keeping it upright.  


“Take my hand!” San flies as close as possible to the side of the yellow monster, reaching his hand out as far as he can. “All you have to do is grab it and I will do the rest,” he encourages Yunho. “Hurry!”

The concern is so clear on Yunho’s face, even underneath the goggles. With the last bit of energy he pulls the lever towards him as much as he can, taking the plane higher up and as soon as San is close enough, he dares to hold on to it with only one hand. Never before he has been so happy about having long arms as he reaches San’s hand easily, probably the easiest thing he has done today, and when he feels how San holds onto him tightly, he dares to let go of the yoke. The plane hovers in the air, huffing and puffing for a moment before quickly descending to the ground, crashing on the beach beneath them. A loud bang, the engine finally exploding, shakes the air and then only the loud voices of the firefighters can be heard.

“How about you pull yourself up,” San huffs, the entirety of Yunho’s weight hanging from his arm, as he does his best to steady the broomstick with his other.

“Can I grab onto the broom?” Yunho asks and as San nods through a pained expression. Yunho grabs onto the stick in front of San with his other hand, then moving his other hand behind the witch, to keep the balance. With a bit of swaying and good use of Yunho’s long limbs he manages to get himself on the broom behind San.

With one hand he firmly holds around San’s waist while taking off the goggles and helmet with the other, letting them fall to the ground. Instead of holding onto the broom he now wraps both of his arms around San’s middle, his chest almost pressing against San's back, as the latter is gradually taking them down. 

“I told you it was dangerous,” San murmurs, his cheeks burning up as Yunho just holds onto him tighter and rests his head on San’s shoulder, breathing heavy and trying to calm down the adrenaline rushing through him.

“I should have listened. Lesson learned,” Yunho replies and San can hear smile in his voice even without seeing him.

"You are incredibly lucky," San shakes his head, the fear for Yunho sowly growing into sligth annoyance at the recklesness, but still based in worry.  


"I am lucky I have found a missing key," Yunho mumbles for he first time and San decides to pretend not to hear it. He feels the same. The arhytmic beating of his heart and pure fear for Yunho's safety proving it. They could talk about it later, as the crowd gathering where San is aiming to land will not let them speak. They have the time to talk about it later, perhaps over tea in the  Mountaintop bakery with Byeol gathering teasing material. They have time to do it, unlucking more doors of themselves in the process.  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BeanSensei)  
>   
>   
> Commissions [ HERE](https://twitter.com/BeanSensei/status/1219648851457593345)  
>   
>  **OTHER ATEEZ FAN FICTION**  
>  **||** [ YunSan: Your Light ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19869763) **||** [ YunSan: The Silver Mask ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159272) **||** [ YunSan: The Morning Alarm ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284231) **||** [ YunSan: A Gift ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21452566) **||** [ YunSan: Useless Skills](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21523681) **||** [ YunSan : Cliche ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573070) **||** [ YunSan: The Little Things ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648208) **||** [ YunSan: It All Starts Somewhere ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684025) **||** [ YunSan: Perfect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21719539) **||** [ YunSan: Sugar and Spice](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758428) **||** [ YunSan: Magnetic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932962) **||** [ JongWoo: Slow Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794587) **||** [ 2Choi: City Lights](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706930) **||** [ 2Choi: Call fo the Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101031) **||** [ SanHwa: Until it Overflows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22212610%22) **||** [ SanHwa: Gallows-Birds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255243) **||** [ YunSan : Not a Cliche ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22362748) **||**YunSan: White and Red **||** OT8 (San focus): Beneath the Oak Tree **||**YunSan: Untouched **||**OT8 (Hongjoong focus): Wonderland **||**YunSan: Spellbound **||**YunSan: Fever **||**SanHwa: In These Arms 


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